Old Friends, Bad Memories
by The Spying Game
Summary: The happiness at the return of an old friend is marred by the knowledge she brings of a threat to the country. post 5.05. HarryRuth.
1. Chapter One  Replay

**Disclaimer: All the people in this fic are the property of those lovely people over at Kudos and the BBC. No profit is being made from this fic either. **

_A/N: This is currently a WIP, but I will try to update regularly. It's set roughly eighteen months post- 5.05 and is Ruth/ Harry (of course) with a bit of casefile. Spoilers up to 5.10._

Chapter One- Replay

It had been, in the beginning, a fairly routine operation. As routine as operations ever were. A check into the life and plans of one of Russia's richest oil barons, who had travelled to England on a moment's notice a month ago and who showed no signs of leaving. Someone in Whitehall had wanted it investigating, so Adam had been playing at secretary for the past two weeks. So far, he had discovered nothing incriminating.

Therefore, he was completely taken aback when the first gunshots echoed through the seemingly empty warehouse. What had, only moments before, been a rendezvous point with the newest member of his staff was now a war zone. Events moved with a startlingly clarity and terrifying speed. Adam reached out and knocked the young agent, Anna, to the ground as he drew his gun. All at once, the gunfire ceased. Astonished, Adam froze, still alert. He felt, rather than heard, the footsteps behind him and the whimper of the girl lying on the floor. Then the person behind him clicked off the safety of his gun and the barrel was pressed, cold and blunt, into the back of his head.

"I would ask for your name, _sir_, but I already know it. And you know mine. So, now I shall tell you what is going to happen to you and your little _companion_."

The voice was high and nasal, not English, and hard to place. Adam knew that his adversary was a good six inches taller than him, and far stronger than he was, despite being at least twenty years older.

"It has been a while since I have had the pleasure of meeting someone from MI-5. The last time they won. Not this time, Mr. Spook. This time I shall win. But first, you shall tell me what you have found out."

Without missing a beat, Adam replied.

"We know almost everything. We have the location of the bomb, the date. The operative. The only thing we don't know is the exact time and your method of transport. Security personnel are surrounding this house as we speak."

The gun tapped lightly against the side of Adam's head and the man, now kneeling beside him, tutted.

"You can do better than that, Mr Carter. Much better. So, this is who Harry Pearce has working for him these days. An arrogant 'shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later' sort of spook. Is that all I merit?"

Another whimper from Anna made Adam turn his head to the side. She was lying on her front like him, her red hair covering her face, her arms stretched out in front of her like a drowning woman reaching for safety. Her white fingers shook, contracting and relaxing, quivering centimetres from the ground. She had only been with the service six months. The fifth recruit hired since Ruth had left. Her predecessor had lasted the grand total of eight days. Five people in nearly eighteen months, and this one, who had lasted the longest, was the youngest, the most innocent. Adam was recalled to the present situation when the man above him began speaking again.

"I suppose that you want to know where you went wrong-Adam, is it?"

"Yes," Adam replied through gritted teeth. He needed to keep him talking. He needed to buy time, time to think about what he was going to do, how to get out of there alive.

"Well, I wasn't suspicion of you from the beginning. You are a good actor, I will give you that. A very convincing and good secretary. However, no-one fools me. It didn't happen twenty five years ago. I lost a battle, but not the war. It has taken me a little longer to regroup than I thought it would. Still, what does not kill me makes me stronger- I never could remember who said that."

He was cut off abruptly as there was a loud crash from behind them. Adam moved with the instinct based on a lifetime of training and experience, lashing out behind him with his arm, knocking the gun out of his hand. In the intervening seconds before he was on his feet, another crash resounded behind him. With a grunt, the man behind him fell to his knees, unconscious. Ages later, Adam would swear that he had travelled back in time and that he was lying on leafy damp ground in a forest when the woman opposite him spoke.

"You know, Adam, you really must stop getting into situations where I have to knock people unconscious with heavy objects to stop them shooting you. Although, last time it was a shotgun rather than a pistol. And it was Friedrich Nietzsche who said "what does not kill me makes me stronger," she added.

Now fully upright, Adam turned.

"Ruth. What in the name of everything are you doing here?"

TBC

_A/N2:Please, pretty please, leave a review, they make my day. I am also currently beta-less, so any help would be much appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2  Boats

_A/N: I am so sorry that this has taken forever to update! I don't have a proper excuse, really, except that RL has been completely hectic, I've had exams these past few weeks. So, I just wanted to update, partly to update and partly to tell myself that I am actually going to finish this. Also, I just wanted to say that the name of the new MI5 agent was created before I saw/ read any episodes/spoilers for season 6, so the name Anna is entirely accidental. Maybe I'm just psychic. Spoilers up to the end of 5.1, but nothing for S6 as yet. Unbeta'd, I'm afraid._

Chapter Two

Adam was pacing up and down in front of Ruth, trying to comprehend the astounding direction that this operation had taken. The fact that the Russian oligarch appeared to be some kind of terrorist was the least of his worries. The last time that he had seen Ruth had been eighteen months ago, in an underground car park, in the middle of one of the worst operations that Adam had ever seen. It sounded clichéd to say that nothing had been the same since, but it happened to be true. Harry had never been the most gregarious person on the Grid, but now he had practically become a robot, going through the motions of normality.

"Ruth, you still haven't answered my question," he told her, simply to break the silence.

"Oh. Yes. Well, Adam, it is complicated,"

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes and Ruth laughed.

However, before Ruth could elaborate further, Anna interrupted them. She was still on the floor, her knees brought up close to her chest and she was surveying Ruth with suspicion.

"Adam, would you mind telling me what the hell is going on? Who is this woman and what just happened?"

Adam explained to Anna that Ruth was an old colleague who had left the service, without going into detail. As for the man now lying unconscious at the ground next to them, he shrugged.

"Clearly, Mr Zjukovski is involved in business dealings more illicit than we had anticipated," Adam sighed. "Ruth?"

However, Ruth simply shook her head.

"I don't know a whole lot more than you, Adam. How I got mixed up in all this is a tale for another day. As I understand it, your Mr Zjukovski was a character who was fairly important in the KGB during the Cold War. He was supposed to have been killed thirty years ago. Now, he has possession of nuclear weapons. That's all I know."

"Well, you know a fair sight more than us," Adam replied, before resuming his pacing. "We should get out of here, first of all. Where are you going, Ruth?"

"I'm coming with you."

He looked at her as though she had sprouted an extra head, before reluctantly nodding in acceptance. Somehow, he had to get Ruth onto the Grid and then- well, maybe meeting Harry wouldn't be such a good idea. Perhaps the Embankment would be a better place. Also, what was he supposed to do about the Russian currently lying comatose on the floor? Punching a number into his mobile, he reeled off a call sign and was patched through to the Grid.

"Harry?" he felt Ruth flinch even from where he was standing. "Yeah, I'm okay. Although, there's been some...complications. No, no-one's hurt. I need MI5 to come and collect a suspect. Yes, the Russian. No, I can't bring him in myself. Umm. It's complicated. I'll tell you later. Or someone else will. Anyway, I have to go, I have to talk to, er, deal with something."

Shutting the phone, he turned to the two women.

"Special Forces will be here in ten minutes, we haven't got much time. Anna, I want you to go straight back to the Grid. Stay there, and if Harry asks you anything, say you don't know, that you didn't get to the rendezvous, whatever."

Deciding against asking questions which were clearly not going to be answered and would only further aggravate Adam, Anna scrambled to her feet and left through one of the back entrances.

"Okay," began Adam, letting out a quiet breath. "Talking, I'm afraid, is going to have to wait. We need to go somewhere safe. I'll take you to my place. Wes is-"

"At boarding school" Ruth interrupted. Shaking his head in disbelief, Adam motioned for her to follow him. His chosen exit led them out along a tarmac road which eventually led to a towpath. Floating on the murky water of the Thames, bobbing gently in the slight swell of the tide, was a small motor boat manned by an old man. He was old, so old and weather beaten that to assign him an approximate age would be ridiculous. He could be anything from sixty to eighty five, standing by engine slowly chewing a wad of tobacco.

"Who's she?" A nod of the head, and Ruth was met with piercing blue eyes that told her this man was not as slow-minded or ignorant as he might appear.

"A friend. She's trustworthy. Marcus, this is, er,"

"Georgia," completed Ruth, realising suddenly that Adam had never found out her 'new' name.

"Back to the usual, Mr Baxter?" asked Marcus.

"Yes please."

Ruth settled herself down in a corner of the boat, Ruth reflected on how apt it was that she was now sitting in an almost identical counterpart to the tug that had taken her away from her old life. Her real life, whatever. It hardly mattered now, did it? It wasn't as if she had ever tried to reinvent herself. No matter what came of this operation with this Russian maniac, she knew that things would have to change.

Please leave a review, thank you! xxx


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